Chapter 60
60
EVANGELINE
T he soft glow of firelight flickered across the walls of Riordan’s private chambers, casting dancing shadows over the dark paneled walls, the high beamed ceiling. The room was masculine to the extreme, heavy and rich and decadent, decorated in dark blues and greens that pulled the color from his eyes, not a hint of red to be seen.
A table for three was set before the fire, the trio of wine glasses already filled, the pitcher of ice water dripping condensation down the sides. The plates were empty, but then again, I’d come early, hoping to catch Riordan alone.
“I’ve never been in here before. This is nice.”
Even in his usual tailored suit, Riordan looked... different tonight. Not only in the absence of the darkness that had consumed him, not just the shadows still lurking beneath his eyes, but in the quiet weariness that lingered, a vulnerability he’d never let me see before.
“Evie,” he said, his voice low and careful, like he didn’t want to shatter whatever fragile peace lay between us. “I wasn’t sure you’d come.”
“Of course, I came,” I replied, taking a step closer. “Why wouldn’t I?” My hands fidgeted at my sides, unsure of what to do with themselves. “Look, I know everything that happened wasn’t you. I know everything was Ravok and you were trying to stop him.” And yet, my hand drifted up to my neck, fingers brushing the spot where Riordan’s fangs—his, not Ravok’s—had sunk in deep, only a few days ago.
Maybe that day was playing worse tricks on my mind that I’d thought.
Maybe there was something wrong with me.
Because ever since that night, there were these…empty holes, for lack of a better word, in my memories. Dark places where there should be memories, but there were only shadows.
“Anyway, I don’t hold you responsible for anything that happened. After he took you over.” I shot him a tentative smile, “everything before that is on you, including being a cranky, stubborn asshole.”
I waited for him to smile back, for him to give me something, but he just watched me with those eyes that seemed to drip misery. I couldn’t tell if he was bracing himself for what was coming or trying to see through me, but either way, I pressed forward.
“When you were possessed by Ravok...” I faltered, the words fighting to stay silent.
I forced them out anyway. “I thought I’d lost you. I thought the Riordan I—” My voice cracked, and I looked away, emotions rushing to the surface faster than I was prepared for. “I thought you were gone for good. And the thought of losing you... you know, I don’t even mind the bickering so much, because I know that’s not real. But watching you slip away, bit by bit, while I couldn’t do anything to stop it…that fucking hurt .”
“Evie...” He started to reach for me but stopped himself, his hand falling back to his side.
“Let me finish,” I murmured, meeting his gaze. “It wasn’t just the fear of losing you. It was realizing how much I care about you. You infuriate me half the time, you piss me off the other half, but the idea of living in a world without you...was unbearable.”
The words hung between us, a raw confession I hadn’t intended to make.
“You’ve been fighting so hard, for so long for your dream, and I want that for you—I do. But, Riordan, if my choice was you or the crown... I’d always choose you. Every single time.”
He stared at me, his expression unreadable, but his eyes—they burned. Not with that harsh, unnatural fire, but with something deeply, achingly human .
Maybe that was the part of him that intrigued me, the part that always remained so far out of reach.
Maybe that was why Blake and I found each other faster, because Blake was more accessible, in his own, grumbling way, while Riordan held himself above us mortals.
“I thought I wanted the kingdom more than anything,” Riordan’s voice was barely above a whisper. “I’ve spent my entire life believing the crown—this kingdom—was my sole purpose. But Evie... when I was in that darkness, being torn apart from the inside, there was only one thing that kept me from giving in completely.”
I didn’t dare breathe; afraid I’d ruin whatever fragile truth was unraveling in front of me.
“And it sure as fuck wasn’t the kingdom that saved me,” he continued, his voice steady but filled with something raw. “It was you. You were my anchor. My light. And now, standing here, I realize... I don’t care about the crown. I only care about you.”
My heart stopped, then thudded painfully in my chest. “If you’re just saying that, Riordan...”
“I’ve been such a fool,” he said, his tone bitter as he stood and began to pace. “I’ve pushed you, doubted you, hurt you—and for what? Because I was too afraid to admit what I was feeling. Afraid of what that would mean.” He turned to me, his eyes blazing with a fire that had nothing to do with his magic. “But I’m not afraid anymore.”
He closed the distance between us in a heartbeat, his hands cupping my face with a tenderness I didn’t think he was capable of.
“I can’t promise I’ll be good at this,” he admitted, his voice unsteady. “I’ve spent too long focused on one thing, keeping my own feeling out of the equation. But if you’ll have me, Evangeline, I swear I’ll try. I’ll try so hard to be the male you deserve.”
Tears blurred my vision, and I let out a shaky laugh as I wound my fingers around the nape of his neck. “God, you’re so dramatic, you know that?”
A ghost of a smile tugged at his lips. “They tell me it’s part of my charm.”
I ran my fingers through his inky hair, the strands as soft as silk. “You’re the one I choose, Riordan. Kingdom or no kingdom, magic or no magic. You.”
His forehead pressed against mine, and in that moment, the world faded away. It was just us, two broken people trying to find their way through the chaos.
And then he kissed me.
I was primally aware of him, from the pressure of his lips to the cunning way his tongue pushed into my mouth, a deep, familiar ache spreading through me like one of those flaming, blooming flowers. He explored my mouth with tenderness, taking his time, letting us both sink deeper and deeper into each other, our heartbeats echoing against our chests.
This wasn’t the searing, desperate kiss of someone trying to claim or control. This was gentle, reverent, a silent vow that spoke more than words ever could.
When we finally pulled apart, his arms stayed wrapped around me, holding me close like I might vanish if he let go.
“Whatever comes next,” he murmured, his lips weaving a soft promise against my hair, “we’ll face it together.”
Together. The word felt like a lifeline, and I clung to him with everything I had.
Dinner felt strangely intimate.
The three of us talked about Fiona’s exorcism like we spoke of the weather, how much blood we thought it took, how long it lasted, if the blood circle left a permanent mark in the lawn that would have to be repaired. Did we even have a landscaping service?
“No, but we should probably look into one.” Blake had chuckled.
Was this really my life now? Exorcisms and possessions and… vials of blood tipped onto the end of a finger…crushing pain…blackness…oh god, please help me…
“Evangeline, what’s wrong?” I blinked Blake back into focus, his broad form outlined by the fire, dark eyes brimming with concern. “Where did you go? It was like you disappeared for a moment.”
“I…nowhere. Just wondering if we should get a lawn service.” I cut into my slice of cake with a shaky hand. “You know, in case we have another exorcism?”
“Wouldn’t surprise me one bit.” Blake waggled his eyebrows and I half managed a smile, worry plucking at my insides. “I suppose that depends on what you get into next, Evangeline.”
“Me?” I asked in mock outrage. “I’m not the one causing trouble lately, I’m the one solving problems and getting shit done, while you two are busy playing fair maidens in distress.” I laughed as I pointed my fork at them. “Maybe I should buy you two a couple of dresses to complete your ensembles.”
“I want pink.” Blake said, without missing a beat. “Make it big and fluffy, like the one you wore the night you killed Tyrell, so I can hide all my knives under it.”
“That means I get purple.” Riordan added, a quiet smile on his face, making him look happier than he had in, well…forever. He was so damn beautiful, like a haunted poet, or a fallen god, and something tugged at my heart, a swell of heat tightening my throat as they fell into a back-and-forth argument about who had better legs.
I leaned back in my seat and sipped my wine, watching. Wanting . Tonight had that rare quality of the nights you remembered forever.
The ones that started out like any other, but somehow, ended up being magical.
Memorable .
Tonight was only the three of us—Blake, Riordan, and me—gathered around a smaller table near a crackling hearth, but somehow this seemed more momentous than any epic battle. Like in this small, quiet moment we were forging something greater, something more lasting, than even a kingdom.
For the first time in what felt like forever, we weren’t fighting for our lives. We were just... alive. Laughing.
Blake leaned back in his chair, his wine glass dangling from his fingers. “I can’t believe we’re actually here,” he said, a grin tugging at his lips. “ Mostly intact.” He and Riordan clinked glasses. “And not plotting our next move.”
Riordan snorted, though there was a softness in his expression I’d never seen before. “Give it a day. Trust me, something will come up.”
“None of that tonight,” I interjected, setting down my glass. “Tonight, we’re celebrating. We survived. That deserves at least one quiet dinner.”
They nodded, and for a moment, the silence was comfortable, broken only by the crackling of the fire and the clink of wine glass.
“I heard you released the last of Tyrell’s prisoners,” I said, turning to Blake. “Nash told me.”
He nodded. “They’re gone, every last one of them. And the slave trading, the drugs, the guns, the corruption—it’s all been stopped. As for the royal houses and lords who were complicit... well, they’re about to learn what it feels like to be on the outside. No protection, no money. We’re seizing their estates, and casting them out of the clan. They’ll become exiles.”
“What about the ones Tyrell drove away? The ones in hiding, Like Lord Hawksmere’s family?” I asked.
“That’s next,” Blake poured himself another glass of wine. “We’ll reach out to them, invite them back. We have to prove we’re nothing like the old regime. We can keep them safe, that this can be a new start.”
I glanced at Riordan, who had been uncharacteristically quiet. “What about you? What’s your plan for the future?”
He hesitated, his fingers tracing the rim of his glass. “To build something worth having,” he said finally. “Schools, homes, alliances that aren’t based on fear or power plays. A kingdom that means something.” His gaze flicked to me, then to Blake. “Maybe, if we do this right, we could create something better than any of us imagined.”
There was a pause as his words settled over the table.
“We’ll do it together,” Blake said, his voice resolute. “No more secrets. No more lies. From here on out, we trust each other. Fully.”
I swallowed hard, my chest tightening at the sincerity in his voice. “Agreed. No matter what happens, we stand together.”
Riordan’s eyes softened, and for a moment, he looked younger, lighter, like the weight of the world had eased enough to let him breathe. “I’ve spent so much of my life alone,” he said, his voice quiet but steady. “Even when I was surrounded by people, I never trusted them. But with you two... it’s different. You’re the only ones I’d ever put my faith in.”
His words hit harder than I expected, and my throat tightened up, making it hard to even swallow. “You’re not alone anymore,” I said softly. “None of us are. We’ve been through too much together to ever go back to that.”
Blake raised his glass, a rare smile tugging at his lips. “To loyalty,” he said, his voice carrying a quiet strength.
I raised mine, my heart full. “To trust.”
Riordan’s glass joined ours, his expression one of solemn determination. “To the future.”
The glasses clinked, and in that moment, everything felt possible.
As the evening wore on, we talked about plans for the kingdom and allowed ourselves, for one night, to dream of a better world. When the fire burned low and the conversation drifted into quiet reflection, I looked at the two men sitting across from me and felt something I hadn’t in a long time: hope .
This was what I’d always dreamed of, a future.
Though I was afraid to hope too much. Hope was one of those fragile things that seemed the more you poured in, the more tenuous your chances became.
Yet somehow, even with my hands in theirs, even with the promises we’d made…I had a terrible feeling danger lay beneath happiness’s bright, glossy surface, waiting to lunge to the surface and rip us apart.